The Step with the Village

In the month or so that I've been here, I haven't felt really here. As in NEW YORK CITY: that city of your dreams and what not. I chalked it up to working a lot and living in a primarily family-dominated area. And maybe, just maybe, that my reality could never hold up to my dreams. I love it here, but perhaps the New York I dreamt was only just that: a dream.

That is, until I went to Greenwich Village.

I finally made it down to 14th St. to visit my roommate at his opening night (or, more so, mid-day) after party. He had just opened a play called Lost and Found for the New York Fringe Festival. The party was casual and fun: free wine, free food, and an actor in the play who also was in a few episodes of LOST (Guess who! Guess who!!). I'm glad it went well for my roommate.

But getting there... getting there was half the fun, if not all. I've been all the way to the tip of Manhattan and I've been about as far as 23rd St. The stuff I want/need to do is mostly midtown, a place I rarely want to go. Times Square is more an amusement park than an actual city.

So here's my surprise when I enter the Village. Interwoven streets; calm, rustic buildings; and even cobbled streets. Cobbled streets! It was as if the Old World came to New York and had a hipster baby named "Greenwich". It had edge, yet it felt comfortable. It was home.

I know I can't afford to live there. Hell, I'm amazed that anyone can. But that doesn't mean I can't play every chance I get. Perhaps I'll start tomorrow.